


memes

by Pyrenees (Captain_Newt)



Category: No Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fantasy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 19:23:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8025964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Newt/pseuds/Pyrenees





	memes

She lets herself into his room without permission.

It was for a good reason, she had told herself. Pyrenees could make a unique swear for every star that could be seen in the sky tonight. When she opens the door she notes that the walk between palace corridors was long enough for the clouds to cover those promises and drop rain into the kingdom.

(Of course she was distracted. By her own pathetic beating heart. Not even halfway to his room she had convinced herself that he wasn't actually back, and this would just be another night of her sitting at his vanity staring out the window. The sea is beautiful at night but it is not comparable. However, for another night she decided the journey across the palace was worth it, and maybe tonight would be the night it's true.)

He's sitting at the foot of his bed, towel over his head as he dries his hair. He is so much bigger then she remembers. Age and war has served him well.

(Of course the kingdom was never in any kind of declared war. That's why his job is so important. Why he hasn't returned. He is there to make sure the war never happens. Sometime's it diplomatic. The scars all over his torso reveal that most of the time it is not.)

Then he looks at her. Messy hair and dull eyes squinting for a moment as he attempts to see across the dark room. "Princess?" He seems to be just as startled as she is by the sight of the other. "Is there... something I can do for you?"

(Is there something he couldn't do?)

She shuffles and grips the cloak around her tighter as she fumbles for an answer. "I.. Uh." Her throat feels dry and she wishes for every deity that is watching to throw her into the raging storm outside. As words evade her she takes a step inside of the room, not thinking of the heavy door, which slams behind her.

(He jumps, clearly startled by the job he came back from, and she isn't sure if it's just her who feels the weight of the world come down on her back.)

"Highness..." He sounds more sure this time- so sure in fact, that he stands and drops his towel with a wary smile. She takes time to note that his is wearing clothes that aren't fit for his status, and his boots are covered in mud and rust. "What are you doing here?" The intimacy of the room rings with every syllable that bounces around the room.

"I heard you were back. A-and I wanted to... See if it was true this time." Her knuckles turned white from the deathgrip she had on the cloak.

 

"Did my charge miss me?" He props his hand on his hip, a wry smirk crossing his features as he laughs. 

(She missed him only when she made brash choices.)

Pyrenees made an undignified nose as she let go of the cloak completely in the comfort of how things should be. "Miss you? I think it is you who in fact, missed me." The cloak falls to the floor as she mimics his pose. 

(His eyes follow the cloak and roam back to her freckled face eventually.)

"Your Highness." He groans, accent thick in annoyance. 

"It is you who wears muddy riding shoes on carpet. If you are so worried about hygiene, maybe you should start with yourself." Pyrenees squints at him, the distance between them almost awkward.

"That's not what is bothering me." 

“Is your composure so fragile, Your Grace?”

His gaze is sharp and electric. “When you come in here dressed like that, yes, Princess. Are you surprised?”

Glad that her voice has finally returned she shifts her weight, making sure that the angle and line of her body is in optimum position for him to admire. “Dressed like what, exactly?”

“Don’t you know?”

"If I remember correctly this is the kind of night wear that you told me that proper princesses wear for years. Was it all a ploy to dress me up in things you like, Schmutz."

"I have been picked to be your adviser to show you what royalty was supposed to act like, not someone who is meant to take advantage of situations."

"You haven't been doing much supervising over the past, what, seven years?" The playful and dangerous air in the room turns to one of bitterness in a single question. He closes the distance between them in just a few, measured steps, as if he’s out for a stroll in the gardens, backing her against the wall in alarm. 

“How very forward of you, Princess,” he murmurs, dark eyes glaring down at her. "I had a job to do."

"I didn't realize that your temper had become so short." She whispers, grinning as she stands on her toes to reach him. He clenches his jaw. "So tell me, what it is that this fighting has done to you. Are you still so meek? Have you decided you no longer care for me?"

(He seems to cycle through defeat and rage, her quips plucking his strings a bit too hard, leaving him open and vulnerable. She had meant to test the waters but she instead jumped directly into the ocean. She knows him well enough to know that he won't fight back without any further prodding.)

His forearms lay against the wall and he lets out a sigh. "You should leave." He gives her room, a choice, to shimmy out of his trap and let the night be over.

She doesn't budge, just pouts and crosses her arms. "I don't want to leave." 

"Now you're acting childish," Another sigh. "We're older now."

"You're once again forcing yourself to grow up much faster then you need to."

He turns to look at her for the first time in a while, making her eyes go wide and stiffen up. He didn't hide his hurt. Perhaps she had hit a weak spot she didn't know he had. "There are a million reasons as to why this topic is dangerous."

(He never fails to play her game, but this time he is a completely new playmate.)

Emboldened, she reaches for his hand and pulls it back, slowly, towards her. Pyrenees unfolds his arm and tangles her fingers in his. He gives no reaction, as if his mind is still trying to process what she has done. Frozen and stunned by her forwardness. His eyebrows twitch and eventually he smiles. "What's the matter?" She asks, "All bark and no bite?"

He brings her hand forward and kisses each finger. His free hand supports her elbow and he touches her like she is a deity with hands that worship. "Both, if that is what you are looking for."


End file.
